Wrath's Patience (Seven Deadly Sins Book 3)

by R. A. Pollard

  “Go to your mother, Bella, I will catch up.” She hesitated, biting on her bottom lip and looking around her. Clearly, she could see the glowing energy but she did not seem as impressed by it as her mother did. His voice broke a little as he spoke. “Please, Bella, go to Layla. I will be fine in a little while.”

  “Okay. But you better be. You’re my daddy now. If you don’t come in five minutes I’m coming back.” With her very vehement statement she turned her little feet, struggling with the deep snow. She took off after her mother, looking back at him every so often until the trees swallowed her up.

  It was a good thing she had no concept of time because five minutes passed long ago, he thought, sliding the pack from his back and slowly sinking to the forest floor. Grabbing a bottle of water from the pack he drained it in about twenty seconds, panting softly. He could hear a constant ringing in his ears, and no matter how much water he drank, his throat remained bone dry. This mountain didn’t want him here; it wanted him gone, no doubt because of what he was. Not a chance in hell—His family was here. All he needed was a bit of rest and he would press on.

  “No fuckin’ hunk of rock is keeping me from what is mine.” Taking in a deep breath he made a move to stand, pain piercing into his head. He gripped his skull, hissing as the ringing increased in tone until he felt his stomach rolling from it. The high-pitched tone turned into voices in his head. Was the madness back?

  You are Wrath, anger manifested—he who spurns love and opts instead for fury. You are wired for it. You do not know love. You are self-destruction, violence and hate. War comes from your blood.

  “No! Shut up. That’s not true. I don’t believe you.” He covered his ears but that did nothing to stop the voices ringing louder in his head.

  The only love you know is the love of revenge and spite. You feel it in your soul. You crave it. You need to make Michael suffer for what he did to you. You will abandon them for your need to make him pay.

  “No, no. Never! I’m never leaving them. They. Are. Mine. Do you hear me? Bastard spirits, they belong to me!” Tan couldn’t stop it, he didn’t know if it was them, or his own weakness of control that caused the fury to rush through his veins, feeding the change. Roughly he ripped off his jacket and shirt, the material like sandpaper against his skin.

  See, already he changes. No control. Violent, vicious animal. Vile creature, demon.

  He had never felt the change so acutely before—the world around him, the scents of the forest, the air against his skin—it was all so sharp. Maybe it was because of where he was; maybe the magic in this place sought to remind him of what he was, remind him of what he could never have. He tried to think of Layla, tried to bring her into his mind. She usually calmed him, but this time it didn’t work. The laughter echoed in his head as his back arched, his nails turning into claws. The spirits had set out to do one thing, prove to him he did not belong here, and they had done it in one sweep of their power.

  “Tanus!”

  “Daddy!”

  He turned his head, his blue eyes going wide. No, he didn’t want Annabelle to see him like this. He opened his mouth to ward her away, but all that came out was a roar that shook the air around them. Seeing the shock on her little face, her eyes wide, was enough to break him.

  “Leave him alone, you mean fairies, he didn’t do anything to you!” Her little angry voice was lost in the haze as his change, now too far along, continued, his spine cracking and dark fur erupting from his flesh. He could see their faint outlines as Layla and his daughter faced four small glowing creatures no bigger than a foot in height. Had such small beings brought him so low?

  He is a demon, he does not belong here.

  The air around him changed. It became charged with an energy thick with power from the depths of the earth. It was heady and heavy, settling around the mountain, stealing the sounds from around them. He turned his head, focusing his eyes on Layla. Wait, was that Layla? The snow danced around her almost lazily. Her eyes were locked on four shimmering forms.

  “If you do not release him immediately, I will bring this mountain down, and all the spirits who reside within it.” Was that his Layla? Her voice rocked the very ground upon which he lay. The mountain rumbled under him, the air thrumming with so much power it made his fur stand on end.

  No! no! Dear Mother, forgive us! Please, please. Then, as if powered by a switch, the pain in his chest was gone, the ringing vanished, and he could breathe again. But he was already in hellhound form. There was not much he could do about that now.

  Panting hard, he rolled to his side. Shadows fell from his form in slow curling coils that vanished into the snow. He opened his eyes. His vision was finally clear. He blinked just before two tiny arms flung around him and Annabelle started to cry.

  “Those mean creatures. I ran as hard as I could and told Mommy what they were doing. They were trying to hurt you.” The change was damn hard on his body, but significantly less painful than last time. Lifting his head, he pressed his cold nose into her neck. He was rewarded with an eruption of tearful giggles.

  Layla knelt beside him, running her hand over his head and down his neck. Leaning down she pressed her head to his, the shadows wrapping around her body as if embracing her when he could not.

  “I’m so sorry. I fell for the most basic of enchantments. I didn’t even notice they had me until Annabelle caught up. Little bastards, who are they to judge?”

  They have a point. I am Wrath, I have felt the rage burning in my blood.

  “I don’t care if you’re Hades himself. I love you, got it? You’re not the only possessive one, you know.” That earned her a cold nose to the neck simply because that was about all he could muster for the moment.

  “Think you can walk? We’re not far from the cave. We can get the pack later.”

  With a snort of warm air against her cheek, Tan slowly got to his feet, shaking off the snow from his black coat. Without those damn imps, or fairies, or whatever the hell they were, he was already feeling much better; the energy of the mountain was less oppressive. Annabelle kept a hand on his back the whole time they walked toward the cave opening. She was reluctant to leave his side, her eyes darting around as if warning off any other mischievous spirit that might harm him. He felt a bloom of pride in his chest at her protective streak. That’s my girl.

  As they approached the opening he tilted his head to the side, watching Layla as she walked back and forth in front of what looked like a blocked entrance. Then she moved to the far edge and vanished behind a large rock. He followed, slipping behind the same rock and into the cave. He stopped dead just inside and looked around, sitting back on his haunches. Annabelle finally let him go, running over to her sleeping bag laid out on the floor.

  He was still staring at the damn cave—it glowed, it really glowed. The whole thing shimmered with light. Nothing amazingly bright, but you didn’t need a light within the cave to see. He found himself wondering if normal mortals would see the light, or if to them the cave would be pitch black. It even emitted warmth to the air, keeping the cold out. Seemed Ilianna knew just the place to keep Annabelle safe from Richard until the mortal gave up trying to steal his daughter.

  “Amazing, isn’t it? I had no idea this is what she meant when she said it would be safe for Annabelle.”

  It is a sight to behold, I will give her that. Trotting over to Layla as she laid out a sleeping bag, he settled down on it, unsure how long this form was going to last.

  The pants he had been wearing were a torn mess just down the mountain. As soon as he was back on two feet he would go and clean up. It would not do having someone find the pack or his torn clothes. Someone might think a bear got a hiker, or something equally horrific.

  Layla, what was that earlier? If not for the fact he was in hound form he might have missed her heartbeat as it kicked up to racing speed. When she did not answer him right away he tilted his head to the side and huffed out hot breath against her hand. Layla.

  “It�
��s a thing, okay. It happens sometimes. When I am angry or upset, really upset.” When she lifted her hand and began scratching behind his ear he couldn’t help the low groan of canine appreciation.

  Keep talking, woman, and don’t stop scratching. If I have to be stuck like this I might as well enjoy it.

  “Demanding, even as a dog.” With a smile, she found that spot causing the involuntary twitching of his hind leg.

  Hellhound, come on now, I have an image to uphold.

  He lifted his head as he felt the weight of a small child laying herself along his body. He was surprised how small Annabelle was compared to him. Turning his nose to her hair he snorted out hot air, making her giggle. He laid his head back down, and Annabelle yawned and closed her eyes. No doubt she was exhausted. His eyes found Layla, and he nudged her leg with his nose bringing her attention to him.

  So tell me, Layla, what is it?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Layla let out a deep sigh. She laid her head against him and closed her eyes. It was not like she had ever intended to hide this problem with her gift, it was more an issue of preferring to keep quiet. Running her hand over his fur, her mind wandered to Lexi. She hoped wherever Lexi was she was okay. Only her sister really knew about the “episodes,” so telling another person was hard. Yet if she was going to spend the rest of her life with this man, he needed to know everything, the good and the bad.

  “The animals refer to me as the Seer of Beasts. But some, like the pegasus and Ilianna, they call me by another name, Seer of Nature. I don’t really understand what it means. Sometimes I can feel a pulse of energy under the ground, and when I lose control I seem to tap into it. Like today, they were hurting you, and it just happened.” She averted her gaze, her silence filling the cave. Tan knew she was holding something back.

  What happened, Layla?

  “I’m the reason my mother died.” Her hand gripped the fur at the scruff of his neck tightly as she spoke. He knew that statement to be absolute crap, but clearly this was something she had been dealing with for a long time. He lifted his head and laid it upon her lap.

  Tell me.

  “The night Annabelle was born, I went into labor at the house, not in the hospital like we’d planned. Mom knew that if I didn’t get painkillers during the birth I might lose control. Annabelle came too early, when Mom was still in town. Ira said she ran out of the store the moment the blizzard hit. She knew what was happening, she always knew. She should have just stayed in town. If she hadn’t been trying to make it home to me then she wouldn’t…” Layla paused. She hated thinking about what happened to her mother that night. But it was mixed emotions, because it was also the night she was given the greatest gift of her life. Looking over at the sleeping Annabelle she smiled sadly.

  “There was a landslide that took out the road. Mother was caught in it. It took them until spring to find the car. Lexi blamed me for so long. I blamed myself, still do. I caused the blizzard in my pain of delivering Annabelle. I couldn’t control this thing inside that reaches for that river of energy that flows through the earth.” She reached out and stroked over the blond locks of her child’s hair, letting out a sigh.

  “I almost lost them both that night. Lexi helped deliver her, but she came out blue, and so cold, lifeless. I have never been so scared in all my life. Lexi breathed for her, but one minute she was telling me my child was stillborn, and the next Annabelle’s lungs filled with air and she screamed the house down. I had never been so happy to hear a child scream in my entire life. It wasn’t until the next morning when the sheriff came and told us about the landslide that we knew Mom was dead. That’s when I named my child after her grandmother; it fit.”

  Then it seems to me your mother sent her soul to give life to your child. You didn’t bring about your mother’s death, Layla, the rocks did that. But she chose to give life to your child. She sounds like a wonderful woman. She reminds me of someone—same strength, same heart.

  “Your mother?” Her question brought his head up and he tilted his head to the side. His mother? Did he have a mother?

  I don’t think I have one, not in the literal sense of the word. He lifted his head suddenly and turned to look back at the sleeping Annabelle who snored softly against his long back. Best remove her, I feel the change coming on.

  Layla reached out and gently lifted Annabelle from him. She carried her over to her sleeping bag and watched the large hellhound stand and trot off into the depths of the cave. The sound of low muted growls and cracking of joints sounded overly loud within the confines of the cavern. She winced, wishing he did not have to go through such pain during the change event. The growls gradually turned into human gasps, and eventually low panting and a very male groan.

  “Tan, are you okay?”

  “Yes, changing back hurts worse than becoming the hound.” His voice was coarse, and it was clear he was exhausted.

  Reaching into her pack she grabbed a bottle of water and a blanket, then walked to where he had vanished behind a rock. He knelt on the floor panting, sweat covering his intricately tattooed back. He lifted his head and his eyes flared brightly. He watched her every move, breathing in deeply.

  “You smell amazing.” He leaned forward, burying his nose against her neck with a low growl. One hand going into her hair, he tilted her head back, scenting up her throat.

  Clearly he was not that exhausted, and neither was she given the heat her body emitted just from his touch. How could she forget that his beast was always close to the surface right after his change? God, she couldn’t help but respond to him. Her mouth went dry the second he pulled her against his sweat-soaked chest and bit along her neck—effectively turning her body to putty in his hands. Gasping softly as he bit down on her throat she pulled her lip between her teeth to stop from crying out. Damn him, Annabelle was less than ten feet away.

  His hands were already making short work of the zipper to her jacket, moving down to the zipper of her snow pants next. At least he held enough control not to tear into them, she thought, as his hot hands slid under her thermal shirt, eliciting a silent gasp of air from her. Okay, she had to do something or she was going to be ravaged by a Wolfman on the cave floor like some caveman’s prize. Her brain barely remembered the hot spring Ilianna mentioned. That would work if she could get her mind to function properly.

  “Will you behave, Wolfman? This is highly unfair.” Unfortunately, she could not put much effort into her order. Her body was turning to slick heat, and he damn well knew it.

  “Let me consider that. No.” The low growled no just below her ear sent a pulse of need sharply through her.

  “Not here, okay, stop with the biting. That is not playing by… oh god…” He sank his teeth in the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his hands doing something to her lower back that was sending her brain into answer machine mode. Shaking off the erotic stupor, she sank her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back. That earned her a growl that made her heart race. The look he gave her nearly made her give in—no damn it, be strong!

  “Okay, enough. Not here, not with Annabelle sleeping so close. Come with me, I know a place. Then you can ravage me to your heart’s content.” For a second it looked like he would fight her on this, then his hands moved from her back.

  “Fair warning, Layla. I am going to mark you tonight.” His hand lifted, encircling her throat, his thumb rubbing tenderly against her pounding pulse. “Right here. I will mark you for all to see that you are mine.”

  Her whole body nearly came apart. Should she be so excited about this prospect? She didn’t know the full implications of his words, but they were powerful, and she wanted it. She needed him to mark her.

  “Yes, I want that. Come, Wolfman. Mark me as yours.” He didn’t need to be asked twice if the low rumble in his chest indicated anything.

  Getting to her feet, which in itself was a miracle because her knees felt like Jell-O, she backed up a step and threw the blanket at him. Last thing she needed was Anna
belle getting an eyeful of fully aroused demon and asking way too many questions about the birds and the bees.

  She gestured him to follow her with a finger, her eyes trailing down the expanse of his muscled chest, following the lines of the tattoos that vanished below the edge of the blanket. Looking back up at him through hooded eyes she slowly divested herself of the various layers of winter clothes. They would just be a hindrance between them when it came to getting in this “healing” spring Ilianna had spoken of. A thought occurred to her—should she mention the hot spring was supposed to possess healing properties? Best not, just in case it didn’t work. She didn’t want to get his hopes up that he might recover his memories.

  The deeper they ventured into the cave the hotter it became, until her remaining clothing was sticking to her skin. No wonder there was no need to worry about the winter’s chill within its walls. There was a scent to the air that was almost herbal. Somewhere deep inside this place, plants grew, even in the dim light. The fragrance was almost sweet, thickening the air, enhanced by the humidity created by deep volcanic activity under the mountain.

  Echoing sounds of trickling water filled the cavern, the dim light reflecting off a pristine steaming pool that seemed to stretch into the darkness of the cave. The edges were smooth from years of chemical erosion; even the very rocks of the pool seemed to glitter under the mirrored surface. The energy was charged in this place; she could feel it dancing over her skin like an electric current, heightening her senses to every sound and movement around her.

  Layla started to think maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The magic here was old magic, powerful and ancient. But her thoughts were scattered to the heady air as his hands slid around her from behind. His lips lowered to her ear, teeth grazing over the lobe and making her eyes roll back in abandon. Strong hands roamed around to her softly rounded stomach, pulling her back against his aroused body with a groan. He rocked the thick length of his cock against her ass, only the thermal skin-tight shorts she wore separating them.